


Silver

by poiregourmande



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Buzzfeed: Worth It (Web Series)
Genre: Body Worship, Brief Spanking Mention, Dom/sub, M/M, Work Boners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-12 21:46:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18019043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poiregourmande/pseuds/poiregourmande
Summary: Steven is different, when they play. His gaze turns almost silver, hard and cold, but still bright, magnetic.





	Silver

**Author's Note:**

> sequel to [play](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13469139/chapters/36705168) but works as a stand-alone piece too.

Steven is different, when he plays with Ryan. Harder most of the time, but with a vulnerability he doesn’t let anyone else see.  
  
They’re both new at this, they’re learning together, and Ryan thinks he loves Steven stopping and admitting he’s not sure about something just as much as he loves being owned and bossed around. He sure as hell can’t get enough of either.  
  
When they play, Steven knows how to push Ryan’s buttons to get the exact reaction he seeks. He makes Ryan feel seen and cared for, whether the caring means Steven drawing him a bath, or spanking him when he needs to get out of his head.  
  
Steven is different, when they play. His gaze turns almost silver, hard and cold, but still bright, magnetic. Sometimes when Ryan’s having a hard time at work, when he can’t stop twisting his headphones cord, when he’s tapping his foot, stressed out about three thousand deadlines, Steven looks at him like that. It helps. They’re not the type to do stuff in public, but just the look is enough. It means _breathe_ , it means _you can do this_ , it means Steven’s got him. And so Ryan breathes and stretches and goes back to work, because he wants to make his Steven proud.  
  
Steven is different, when they play. His warm, giggly laugh, the one that never fails to make Ryan smile, turns hard, like silver. Bright and clear, sometimes mocking, sometimes cooing. _Aww, does it hurt? Does my little baby want to come?_ The words are caring, the tone not so much, and Ryan can’t get enough.  
  
Steven is different, but at the same time it couldn’t be anyone else. It’s so him — his need to take control, the way he teases Ryan, the fond undertone to each of his words, his laughs, his touches. He couldn’t get rid of it if he tried, and Ryan doesn’t want him to.  
  
Ryan’s different too, when they play. Softer, more vulnerable. A lot of it is because he trusts Steven, and because it takes a weight off his shoulders, not having to be strong all the time, but a not-so-small part of it is because he knows Steven gets off on it. And getting Steven off became quickly one of his favourite things.  
  
Steven forgets himself when he comes. Forgets to be proper, to be in control, he just clings too hard to Ryan and swears under his voice, messy and breathless and more beautiful than ever.  
  
So Ryan plays along, takes on the role of the soft, the innocent, the fragile, and Steven takes on the role of the caretaker, the protector, but sometimes also the predator. A mutually beneficial agreement, that allows them to compartmentalize, to be just Ryan and Steven, just friends, when they’re at work, to avoid these dynamics to bleed into their daily lives.  
  
Except that —  
  
Ryan falls in love with that silver gaze, that silver laugh, that silver hair. He finds himself volunteering to be on shoots directed by Steven because he craves being told what to do. He craves that submissive dip of his head when he receives a command. He craves following orders, pleasing Steven when he does as he’s told.  
  
There’s like five other people on that set, each working to bring Steven’s vision to life, and it does something to Ryan, not being the only one at his service right now. He sets up lights and backdrops, noticing the tiniest glimmer of authority in Steven’s eye, that he doesn’t have when he talks to the others. Ryan keeps his head down, does his work, but his skin feels too tight, his blood seems to flow faster throughout his body, it’s almost making him dizzy.  
  
It’s a relief when they call it a wrap and put everything away, and coworkers file out of the room. Ryan lags behind, unwilling to go back to reality so soon. He’s coiling a cord when a hand suddenly cups the back of his neck.  
  
“You’ve been good,” Steven says, and it’s not his normal work voice, it’s the one he uses when they’re alone together. When they’re playing.  
  
Ryan shivers. “S-So have you. It was a good shoot.”  
  
Steven smiles indulgently, squeezes his wrist. “Look at you, all wound up. You want more, don’t you?”  
  
Ryan steps closer, almost imperceptibly. A whimper escapes his throat. Steven keeps him away with a single finger on his chest.  
  
“We said not at work, baby, remember? I’m gonna need you to be patient, can you do that for me?”  
  
Ryan nods eagerly.  
  
“Use your words, baby.”  
  
“Y-yes. I’ll be patient.”  
  
“Good boy.”  
  
***  
  
Excruciating is the word Ryan would use for his thoroughly unproductive afternoon. He can only focus on his unrelenting boner, on the blissful, mind-encompassing fog he knows is waiting for him, just slightly out of reach.  
  
Emails and texts and scheduled reminders only register as distant pings on his consciousness. He’s only got enough brainpower to keep from touching himself and to avoid whimpering out loud.  
  
He keeps looking at the clock and is it just his imagination or is it going backwards? He’s pretty sure it was three minutes later than this last time he checked.  
  
He texts Steven. He promised himself he wouldn’t, that he would be patient, but this is the last straw.  
  
_Are you setting back the clocks just to torture me?_  
  
He hears a silvery, clear laugh from across the room. _Do you think I have time for that? I’m working, baby._  
  
Ryan lets out a whimper that he manages to hide into a cough, and he turns his phone face down on the desk. He doesn’t want Steven to know how flustered he is, how utterly destroyed Steven’s message got him, so he doesn’t answer. This is becoming a mind game. A competition, like he’s had with Steven so many times before. He can do this.  
  
His fingers are typing _Steven, please_ , before he can even realize he took his phone, but he refuses to press Send.  
  
He’s not weak.  
  
He’s strong-willed, steadfast, entirely able to keep working while he’s horny, he’s done it dozens of times. He just gotta find some gruesome murder to research.  
  
He takes his phone again, intending to pull up his notes.  
  
He presses Send.  
  
He’s halfway through his list of cases to research when it registers.  
  
_Betrayed by his own fingers._  
  
Okay, it might sound worse than it is when put like that, but like. He was all strong and determined and it had to end just like that? A mere mistake, yet Steven will make sure Ryan will never hear the end of it.  
  
Or will he?  
  
Ryan waits a minute, two, five, hands shaking as he holds his phone.  
  
No answer. _Read_.  
  
Oh so it’s like this? Steven is just gonna ignore him?  
  
The outrage is just what Ryan needed to snap out of his horny haze and go back to work. In fact, he’s spite-working so hard that he doesn’t notice the clock striking five.  
  
His phone almost startles him out of his chair as it buzzes, at 5:12, a text from Steven saying _guess you didn’t need it that much._  
  
A quick glance across the room tells him Steven is not at his desk.  
  
Ryan gathers his stuff in a panic, trying to catch Steven before he leaves, and it doesn’t even occur to him to just text him.  
  
“You’re pretty cute when you panic, y’know?”  
  
Ryan turns on his feet so quickly he almost gets whiplash. Steven’s casually leaning against the wall outside the building, near the parking lot. His hands are shoved deep into his jacket pockets and something in his laid-back demeanour, in his lazy voice, makes Ryan slump, all tension leaving his body.  
  
“I thought you left me.” He doesn’t mean to sound so accusing.  
  
“I could never,” Steven laughs. “God, this afternoon did a number on me,” he says, slinging an arm around Ryan’s shoulders to guide him to his car.  
  
“It did?” Steven had looked thoroughly unaffected the whole time.  
  
“Oh, absolutely. Seeing you so desperate... I mean, damn, I wanted to bend you over a desk and take you in front of everyone.”  
  
Ryan shivers as the Buzzfeed sign on the building shines its red light on them, as if the aforementioned ‘everyone’ knew exactly what was going on.  
  
“Are you cold, baby?” Steven asks with faked concern. “No? Well, then, that means only one thing. You’re into this. You like that? The idea of me taking you in front of everyone?”  
  
“Steven...” Ryan tries to protest, but his heart isn’t in it and he knows it’s useless.  
  
“Get in the car.”  
  
***  
  
Ryan is laid out on Steven’s bed, completely naked, and learning that neediness isn’t a one-way street. Steven, in a soft, worn-out undershirt, and a pair of boxers that cup everything just the right way, is kneeling next to him, almost drooling over him.  
  
Steven traces every single curve and bulge and dip and angle of Ryan’s body, hunger in his eyes and gasping every once in a while like he forgot to keep breathing. Whispered praise escapes his lips, sending shivers all over Ryan’s body.  
  
“Pretty…beautiful… gorgeous… mine.”  
  
At this point, Ryan can’t stop quivering. He’s so hard he thinks a warm breath in the general direction of his crotch would be enough to make him nut. He wants to beg, but on the other hand... being the subject of Steven’s undivided attention, after being ignored all afternoon, feels pretty damn great. He’s so far gone for Steven sometimes he forgets that Steven wants him just as much.  
  
The thought makes his toes curl.  
  
Or maybe that’s because Steven just wrapped his lips – god, _his lips_ – around the head of his cock and his tongue is teasing the slit.  
  
“Oh fuck, Steven!”  
  
Ryan’s hips buck up and Steven leans back, lips slipping off with a sonorous _pop!_  
  
“Ryan...” Steven says warningly, but amusement dances in his eyes.  
  
“S-sorry – I just – your mouth...” Ryan whines.  
  
“Yours, though,” Steven breathes out, and climbs on top of Ryan to kiss him.  
  
A feverish kiss, where Ryan can feel Steven losing control, hips rolling against Ryan’s, fingers leaving bruises up and down Ryan’s biceps.  
  
Ryan loves when Steven is in control, when he bosses him around and uses him. But when Steven loses control? When he becomes wild with desire, and the only thing on his mind, out of his mouth is _Ryan Ryan Ryan_ , it might be even better.  
  
Sometimes Steven takes Ryan, just presses him into the mattress and owns him, and Ryan can only lay there and give his entire body and soul to him.  
  
Sometimes Steven rides Ryan and forbids him to touch, and it drives Ryan crazy but Steven always makes the best sounds that way.  
  
Tonight? Tonight they’re both too wound up, too desperate for lube or prep or any of that. Steven pushes his boxers halfway down his thighs, licks his palm and takes them both in hand before going to town.  
  
“Ryan, Ryan...” he gasps, over and over again, his second hand fisted in Ryan’s hair to keep him close as he pushes bruising kisses down his face, down his neck.  
  
It takes not nearly as long as Ryan would like before they’re both spilling over Steven’s hand and Ryan’s chest, panting into each other’s mouth, softening dicks still twitching in Steven’s hand, which didn’t get the memo and is still milking them for all their worth.  
  
It doesn’t matter.  
  
Now that that’s out of the way, now that the urgency is over, he knows Steven will catch his breath and take back control.  
  
And Ryan will slip back into his rightful place. They’ve got all night.


End file.
